


holes in the world

by echocreeks



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: A gift for a friend, Gen, all of my kids cried and it hurt me sfm so i needed my fave thing, happy star day! have some love, idk i'm really in a star mood i might start writing for star vs?, moon and star on better terms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 07:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11527029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echocreeks/pseuds/echocreeks
Summary: she’ll grow older, taller, wiser. she’ll take the throne and learn what the crown means. she’ll mend the holes in their world, in time.





	holes in the world

things are falling from the sky.

there’s a streak of light and a gentle whistling overhead every now and again. it signifies another onslaught of the airborne memory book. a painting here, a bust there; marco had just discarded a handful of limestone when a framed photograph of the royal family _bonk!_ s him on the head, and drops into his open palms. not everything can be escorted from the mesosphere by an entourage of eagles and a children’s choir, thank _you_.

( _but they catch a lot of what falls. what they don’t can be mended. it will all be mended, in time._ )

with both star and her mother on clean-up, the kingdom is restored in a matter of hours. they move with method, a new synchronization to them that has never been seen before. marco, who has seen… several new sides to his best friend today, thinks that star and moon may just have found a middle ground. river couldn’t be prouder of his girls: his daughter is growing to be more and more like her mother.

there’s a party afterward; for once, moon doesn’t seclude herself in a little bubble of respite. star, who is a butterfly in name and in nature, flits from person to person, guard to commoner, thanking them for their loyalty and patience. she offers heartfelt apologies and centuries-long hugs. moon travels in her daughter’s wake, still too tender to leave her daughter’s side.

( _they’re both a little beaten up, but they will be mended, in time._ )

marco and the royal family find their way to each other from the corners of the hall. river has salvaged their large family portrait from _somewhere_ ; together, the four of them unfurl it, mend the cracked filigree frame, and work together to mount the portrait on its spot in the hall. star remarks that they should perhaps get a new one. moon agrees that she’d rather like to see her daughter’s radiant smile every day.

moon is pulled into a chamber with what remains of the magic high commission, and for once, she doesn’t shut the door on star. there are vacant seats, after all, and while old friends cannot be replaced, their work cannot go undone. star has ways to go, they agree, but it is distance that can be crossed. moon believes her daughter could unify the universe; she lacks the polish, but possesses the potential.

( _she’ll grow older, taller, wiser. she’ll take the throne and learn what the crown means. she’ll mend the holes in their world, in time_. )

this is, of course, the base for star’s argument to accompany marco back to earth for the night. marco assures the butterfly’s that he doesn’t mind; there’s an empty room with star’s presence in the very walls. it’s agony for moon to part with her girl, but she knows the leaps and bounds this earth boy has encouraged in star. she sees a new woman; she sees a _queen_.

star and marco are _tired_. things are so still and peaceful on earth; star realizes how homesick she had been, but not when she’d truly considered earth to be her home. she’s still keyed up; she feels the magic in her veins, under her skin, in her hair. she’s never dipped down so far, or channeled the universe at such a propensity. it takes a while to work it out of her system.

they bundle up on the couch in a tangle of cushions and limbs and watch old spaghetti westerns. neither of them speak. there’s nothing to say. when marco puts his arm around star, she doesn’t protest. when her fatigue finally outweighs her head, marco adjusts it to sit comfortably on his shoulder. they fall asleep like this: arm in arm, hand in hand, with marco’s thumb grazing over star’s bruised knuckles.

( _skin can be torn, blood can be lost, and hearts can be broken. but marco will mend hers, in time_. )

**Author's Note:**

> hi, i’m _echocreeks_. you can follow me _[here](http://echocreeks.tumblr.com)_.


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